A Taste of Temptation (18 page)

Why do you deny your entrance?”Her words were more defiant sounding than she had intended.

So much for thinking she would win her husband’s favor with kindness. She was acting like a shrew, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. If he would simply admit he’d been there she would let it go.

“You say it was dark in your room when you thought you saw me? That proves you could not have seen me, Olivia. Shortly after you left my chamber, I left this house and it was daylight before I returned.” Something close to a chill shook Olivia, but there was more to it than just the intruder in her room. It was because he hadn’t come home on their wedding night.

Denying the hurt that gripped her she said, “Who could have been in my room?”

“No one, I’m sure. Perhaps you were dreaming.”

“I was not dreaming, my lord. I felt a presence in the room and when I heard the door open I rose up and I saw a man leaving. I assumed it was you.”

“It wasn’t me.”

He was serious. She could see it in his eyes. “If not you, who would dare enter my room?”

A half smile lifted one corner of his mouth, making him devastatingly handsome. “Perhaps you saw that ghost you are so famously looking for. Who is he? Lord Pinkwater, I believe?”

Andrew was mocking her but he didn’t know how right he could be. What if her aunt was right and the ghost of Lord Pinkwater was in this house? What if he’d known Agatha was in the house yesterday and he’d come looking for her last night?

Could that possibly be? Was a ghost really in her bedroom last night looking for her aunt?

“No. It had to be you,” she whispered more to convince herself than to argue the point.

“Believe me, Olivia, if I had wanted to enter your bedroom last evening I never would have dismissed you from mine. I thought I made it clear last night that I don’t intend to change my life simply because I now have a wife.” Olivia suddenly pushed back her chair and rose so quickly that the chair tumbled backward to the floor. Andrew stood up at the same time and just at that moment the iron pike from the suit of armor that stood in the corner behind Andrew’s chair fell hard across his shoulder. It bounced off him and onto the table, breaking his plate.

“Heaven’s angels,” Olivia whispered.

“Damnation.” Andrew looked down at the dangerous-looking pike as he grabbed his shoulder.

Olivia rushed to his side. Taking hold of his forearm, she asked, “Andrew, are you hurt?”

“No,” he said with a grimace. “I’m fine. I’m just wondering how in the hell that damned thing fell.” Olivia didn’t believe he was all right. “It must have injured you. Take off your coat and let me have a look.” She put her arms up to grab the lapels of his coat and started to help him take it off, but he gently took hold of her wrists and stopped her motion.

He calmly looked down into her eyes and said, “I’m not hurt. If it had been my head instead of my shoulder I might not be saying that, but as it is there was no harm done to me.”

In that moment Olivia wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him tight and she sensed he felt the same way. The thought of him being injured tore at her heart.

She knew he could see the fear for him in her eyes but she didn’t care. From the evening she’d watched him standing in the vestibule of his house she knew she felt differently about him than any other man.

His gaze swept down her face to her breasts. Her breathing became shallow as she watched him staring at her with something in his eyes that looked like wanting or hunger.

“My lord, I heard a crash, are you and Lady Dugdale all right?” Whibbs asked as he came rushing into the dining room.

Andrew let go of Olivia and she stepped aside. “Yes, we’re fine,” Andrew said. “But for some reason that damned thing fell.” He pointed to the pike that lay on the edge of the table.

Whibbs picked it up and looked at it closely before leaning it in the crook of the suit of armor’s arm.

“I don’t know how this could have happened, sir. Perhaps the same maid who dusted the vase in the foyer and didn’t put it back in its proper place also dusted the pike and failed to secure it when she was finished.” The butler didn’t look at Olivia, but she had little doubt Ellie must have been that maid.

“May I suggest we have the armor taken out of the dining room and put in the attic until we decide what to do with it?” Olivia asked.

“Yes, Madame. I’ll have someone take it away immediately,” he said and walked out of the room.

Olivia swallowed with difficulty. Softly she asked, “Are you sure your shoulder is all right?”

“Positive.”

“I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn’t moved when you did. That pike could easily have hit the back of your head.”

“But it didn’t.” He looked into her eyes as if he were searching for something from her, but said, “I’m going out for the day. I’ll be back in time to take you to the first party tonight.”

He walked past her and out of the room.

Olivia was left staring at the unfinished
Times
lying on the table and the suit of armor.

If it was indeed a ghost who’d entered her room last night, could a ghost have caused that pike to fall? And if so, what would be the purpose of the spirit wanting to hurt Andrew?

She had never believed in ghosts, and certainly not ghosts that created mischief.

But she was positive that someone was in her room last night. Maybe she was just dreaming after all, but if so, it didn’t feel like any dream she’d ever had before. She walked to the window and looked out over the back lawn.

In her mind she went over everything she’d felt last night when she been awakened.

No. It was no dream. Someone or something had been in her room last night. She was sure of that.

If it wasn’t Lord Dugdale, could it have been Lord Pinkwater’s ghost?

27239_ch01.001-297.qxd 9/19/05 6:09 PM Page 157

Twelve

8

A
rabelle Woodward watched
Andrew with dark, beautiful eyes that told him she’d welcome his advances if he were so inclined.

When he’d first arrived at her modest home it had been easy to spend time with her because they were very familiar with each other. They talked of old times together and various people they both knew. But after she’d poured the second glass of wine their conversation lagged.

He kept trying not to compare her to Olivia but hadn’t met with much success. Not only did Arabelle have dark hair, eyes, and skin while Olivia was blue-eyed, fair, and blonde, his former mistress was at least twenty years older than Olivia, though she wore her age well.

But there was another more important difference between the two. Arabelle didn’t challenge him. She said all the right things, agreed with him on everything, and smiled at him with every word she spoke.

Not so for Olivia.

Andrew didn’t think Olivia had ever agreed with him on anything, and he was certain she’d never smiled at him.

Yet, he wasn’t put off by her lack of coquettishness. He was intrigued by her boldness and the way she took him to task about everything. He found Olivia infinitely more interesting than this woman he’d known intimately.

He had thought coming to see Arabelle would satisfy his need for a woman in his bed. And get his mind off Olivia. When he’d held Olivia in his arms and tasted her sweet breasts it had almost sent him over the edge. It had taken all the willpower he could muster to push her away.

And he’d damned himself for it.

He had been hard for her ever since. That was why he was sitting with his former mistress, trying to make himself want her.

But being with Arabelle had only made him aware that he didn’t want her and that there were more differences between her and Olivia than the one being a lady and the other a mistress.

While Arabelle talked about her recent trip to Bath, Andrew’s thoughts drifted to his conversation with Olivia that morning.

He should be angry as hell with her that she wouldn’t let him read the news in peace. But he wasn’t. For some reason he actually approved of Olivia taking him to task about it. It was rude of him to keep the paper in front of his face and ignore her on the first day of their marriage. And he’d been a damned fool spending the night at his club gambling with men he hardly knew rather than under the sheets with her.

The real reason for his bad behavior was that he didn’t want Olivia putting any restrictions on him. No one had set boundaries or limitations on his actions since he was fifteen and his father died. He had no intention of letting his new bride change his lifestyle just because she’d changed his status from bachelor to husband.

Olivia had looked like an angel when he glanced up from the paper and saw her walking into the dining room.

The thin material of the dress she wore clung to her body and legs as she walked, outlining her shapely form. When she passed by the window, sunshine fell on her face and gave her skin a light, golden glow.

His first thought when he saw her was that he wanted to walk over and remove the large amethyst from the hollow of her throat and kiss her there. He wanted to feel the beat of her pulse against his lips, and then slowly let his mouth find her nipple and pull it into his mouth.

His lower body felt thick and throbbing just thinking about wanting her. And he hadn’t been able to forget how eager she was for his touch, how responsive she was to his loving.

It was difficult to understand Olivia. She seemed as sane as he, yet she continued to talk about a ghost. That troubled him. He didn’t believe in ghosts, and he didn’t want his wife thinking one was entering her bedchamber. Maybe he should talk to her about it and find out if there was more to this ghost story than Olivia was willing to tell.

When that damned pike fell, he saw in her eyes that she was worried about him even though he’d just made a biting remark to her which he had immediately regretted. He’d just started to apologize when the iron pike crashed against his shoulder.

“Something tells me your thoughts have been somewhere else and you haven’t heard a word of what I’ve been saying,” Arabelle murmured seductively as she lifted her arm to the back of the settee behind him and softly let her fingers thread through the back of his hair.

“Not true,” he lied without compunction and only to spare her feelings. “It sounds like you had a lovely time in Bath.”

“Yes. It was good to have some time to myself for a while, but now I plan to settle here in London for a long time.”

“There’s no place in the world like London,” he said, knowing that it was time for him to go, knowing there wasn’t anything he wanted from her.

She smiled at him while her fingers continued a leisurely pattern of massage at the back of his head.

“I was delighted when Mr. Haversham told me you wanted to see me. We used to enjoy each other, Andrew.

We can again.”

Andrew had thought they would, but now it was clear that even though she was still a woman of great beauty, he had no desire to renew their once torrid affair. He should have let bygones be bygones and not have attempted to recommence a relationship that had long since passed.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m talking to myself?” she asked when he remained quiet after her last comment.

“It’s been good seeing you, Arabelle, but I should be going,” he said.

Arabelle’s eyes registered shock at his words, but she quickly recovered and said, “No, not yet, Andrew.” She removed her arm from behind him and picked up his glass from the small table in front of them. “Let’s have another drink before you go.”

She extended the glass toward him. The crystal caught the lamplight and sparkled invitingly. For a moment, the ruby red wine seemed to be pulling at him as eagerly as her painted lips, but only for a moment.

He shook his head, declining another drink. Another glass of wine was not going to make him want her.

Arabelle placed it back on the table and moved closer to him, laying her hand on his inner thigh and pressing her body against his relaxed arm. Her dark golden-colored gown was cut low, revealing the full, fleshy swell of her ample breasts. Andrew couldn’t help but compare them to Olivia’s smaller, firmer breasts.

“Please don’t go yet, Andrew. The night is just beginning,” she whispered softly and so close to his ear he felt her warm breath tingle against his skin. “We know each other so well. I know how to please you. And I’ve learned a few more delicious things since we were last together.” He had no doubt about that.

“Let me show you. Let me give you the pleasure you deserve.”

Her eyes were hot with desire; her lips formed a provocative pout. No doubt, like him, she was remembering the passionate nights they’d shared.

Arabelle’s hand slid over to the junction of his thighs and cupped him with just the right amount of strength to elicit an immediate hardness.

She is good at her job.

“You are big and very hard, my lord.” She laughed softly, huskily, sensuously. “You want me, my darling, and I want you now. Take me here on the settee and satisfy yourself.” She reached up and placed her dark pink lips on his and tried to evoke a reaction from him. Her hand did its work on him and he swelled with need. For a moment he gave in to her wine-coated kiss and returned her passion. She moaned her pleasure at his slight response.

Andrew’s body told him he wanted a woman to sink deeply into. His body desperately wanted release. But after only moments of her wrapped in his arms he knew she was not the woman he wanted.

He drew away from her and said, “I’m sorry, Arabelle. I have to go.”

“Wait,” she said and pulled on his arm as he tried to rise.